


Wine and Daring

by Zilchtastic



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilchtastic/pseuds/Zilchtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She shows up at Rude's apartment one night, a bottle of wine in hand and a daring expression on her face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wine and Daring

She shows up at Rude's apartment one night, a bottle of wine in hand and a daring expression on her face.

It's not Elena's style to just drop in out of the blue-- that's more Reno's thing, really-- and he can't help but wonder for a moment if someone has put her up to this, dared her to come over and...

...And what? Maybe he's imagining things. But she's not wearing her tie, and her shirt is unbuttoned far enough that he can just glimpse the black lacy edge of her bra when she moves. When she hands him a glass of wine there's a challenge in her eyes, and Rude's pretty sure it's not a shooting match she's here for.

So they drink and they talk-- well, Elena talks. Rude listens, mostly, and imagines what her mouth will taste like, all sweet from the pale, fruity wine.

After about an hour she stands up, setting her glass down with a deliberate _clink_. Rude watches her, waits for the debate in her eyes to melt into determination. When she shrugs off her jacket, movements precise, he figures he knows which side has won.

"Something you wanted?" he says, amused, as she marches across the room to stand over him.

"Yes. Yeah." And she swallows hard, like it's difficult to get the words out. "I want... I want to--"

"Sounds like a plan," Rude says, before she can choke on the rest.

She leans down, then, almost hesitant, and when Rude doesn't twitch she presses her lips to his.

It's a nice kiss-- a little clumsy, a little chaste, but still, Rude's not complaining. He can think of ways it could be better, though, so he tangles his fingers in Elena's smooth short hair and drags her down further. She makes a little surprised noise, parting her lips, so Rude takes the advantage and slips his tongue into her mouth.

Her soft moan is completely satisfying. Rude's pants are starting to feel a little tight.

They break apart, and Elena's expression is wild, like she can't believe she's doing this. Rude can't blame her. If it weren't for that fiery rebellious streak, he'd think this was totally out of character.

She presses on, though, like this is some new obstacle on the training course and she's determined to best it. She gets her knees up on the couch, on either side of Rude's legs, and then she's sliding forward, straddling his lap. Rude's hands come up automatically to clutch at her waist, and she's small enough that his fingers almost meet up.

Rude is a foot taller than Elena, maybe more, and if he's being really honest with himself, that's more than half of what gets him off about this.

Of course, the perky tits don't hurt, either, and neither does the shapely little ass. When he has her settled on his lap and he gets a good handful of both, squeezing gently, she whimpers against his mouth, and that's pretty damned good, too.

"We going to do this?" he asks, just to be sure. Elena's still rookie-green, killed her first man barely two weeks ago, and from the way her eyes are too wide and her heart is hammering, Rude thinks she probably hasn't done this much, either.

Her expression narrows down to something almost defiant, and she lifts her chin like Rude's just thrown down the gauntlet. "Of course," she says, going for casual and failing, but Rude gives her a few badass points anyway. She's practically sitting on his dick-- she can feel what she's about to get into. _Or what's about to get into her_, says the voice in the back of his head, and that sounds way too much like a crack Reno would make for comfort.

He undoes the rest of her shirt-buttons one-handed and spreads the fabric wide. Her bra is black and see-through, and the tease of it makes him groan as he cups her. She lets out a little puff of air, squirming like it's already too much, and Rude drags her hips forward with his other hand so she'll do her little wriggle tight against him. He rewards her with a long, hot kiss when she does.

Right now, though, he'd really like to find out if the panties match the bra, so he pulls back a little and starts working on her clothes again. Elena's panting, her expression dazed, but when he goes to tug at her shirt she helps him and shrugs her way out of it. "Up," he says, patting her ass, and she goes up to her knees while he yanks at buttons and zip and then skins the pants down.

He doesn't even mind the maneuvering it takes to get them all the way off-- one leg and then the other-- because she's leaning with her chest right in his face, and this close he can smell the delicate perfume dabbed in her cleavage, something sweet and just a little spicy. When she settles on his lap again he gets the answer to his question-- the panties do indeed match.

"_Fuck,_" he snarls, low, because he's looking at everything, nothing but the haze of sheer black fabric marring his view. Elena makes a high, sweet noise when he slides a finger along the lacy top of the panties. When he looks up at her her cheeks are crimson.

Rude hasn't even gotten his buttons undone yet, and something about that kind of gets him off, too, like he's doing something _decadent_, sitting here still in his suit with a mostly-naked girl sprawled across his lap. He covers up his smirk by kissing Elena again, and when he gets his tongue into her mouth he uses the distraction to unhook the back-clasp of her bra.

He doesn't see where he tosses it. He gives Elena's lower lip a little bite, making her gasp, and then draws back so he can see. She's hunching her shoulders like she wants to hide-- as if the see-through bra was shielding her, somehow, and only now does she feel naked. Rude ignores her discomfort and gets both his hands up there, because those sugar-pink nipples are screaming for some attention in his estimation.

"Nice," Rude says, when she arches her back for it, pushing into his touch.

"Taking too long," Elena breathes, chin tilted up pugnaciously again.

Rude kind of laughs at that. No one ever died of too much foreplay, but if she wants to speed things up he isn't going to complain, either. He slides one hand down, skimming ribs and belly and then slipping underneath the tease of her panties. "You wet for it already?"

And she is, gods how she is. Rude had almost expected her to be virgin-dry, but she's hot and wet and she jerks her hips against his hand as he strokes her. Maybe she's done this before, after all.

It takes a lot of willpower to not just tear the flimsy material right off her. Instead Rude slides it down, making it a tease, fingers caressing ass and thighs as he goes. Elena makes more of those pretty whimpering sounds, squirming around to help him, and this time when he gets a faceful of breasts he takes the invitation and buries his face there in the cleavage.

Elena clings to his shoulders, shuddering when he gives her a lick, and then a bite, and then a long, wet suck. She cries out, startlingly loud, when he repeats the move on her other nipple, and Rude wonders if she's one of those girls who can get off just from this.

He doesn't get to find out, because she's shoving at his shoulder. "Come on, Rude, come _on_," and when he backs off she starts on his shirt-buttons with hands that won't stop shaking.

He could be helping, too, he thinks, so he drops his hands to his belt and starts tugging it open. Elena's eyes go wide. "Oh god, oh god," she says, but it's like she can't stop watching as he gets to button and then zip and then pulls himself out, hard and leaking already.

She hesitates, one hand out like she's waiting for permission to touch, and Rude makes a low noise he hopes she'll take as assent. Apparently she does, because a second later she's got one of those pale, delicate hands on his cock, and Rude groans, almost as much from the sight as from the feel of it.

At first it's like she can't figure out which end is up, so Rude puts a hand over hers, closes it around him, and shows her how to stroke. It's good, damn good, enough that his balls ache already, and when she wets her lips with a flash of pink tongue Rude has to squeeze her hand tight just to keep from losing it too soon.

He draws her hand away and she makes a noise of protest, like she was enjoying the feel of him too much and doesn't want to let go. Rude chuckles and gets both hands on her ass again, lifting her up.

She realizes what's going on, and her eyes flash wide. "Like... Like this?" Still in his clothes, she means. Her expression is vaguely scandalized.

Rude kind of shrugs. "Tomorrow's laundry day," he says, and is gratified when she actually laughs.

He runs a finger over her again, just to make her shudder, and then he slides one right in, just because he can. She's sopping wet, but she's also amazingly tight-- his opinion flip-flops again. Maybe she hasn't done this yet. She makes a little mewling noise and clutches at his shoulders, breathing too fast.

"Relax," he tells her, moving his finger in and out, real slow. He gets his other hand on one of her breasts, kneading, plucking at the nipple, and she gives up a shockingly loud moan as her eyes slide out of focus. "Keep doing that, keep doing that," she gasps, so he does.

After a few her hips start to rock, so he picks up the pace a little, and when she doesn't protest, he figures it's time to slide another one home. She bites her lower lip when he does, tightening up and then easing, like she's consciously trying to relax. Which is good, since Rude's dick is a hell of a lot bigger than a couple of fingers, even considering that Rude's _fingers_ are pretty big, themselves.

Her hips are jerking again, driving Rude's fingers deep. "Come on," she's saying again. "Come on, Rude, I can take it," and Rude is quietly grateful, because ready or not, he isn't going to last much longer, and he wants her hot and tight around him before he gives it up.

So he lines her up, and she whimpers at the feel of his cock sliding against her folds, not even pushing yet.

"Ready?" he asks, just to be polite, but then he doesn't wait for her to answer, just starts pushing her down with slow, inexorable hands.

It takes _work_ to get her all the way down so she's sitting right on it. Rude's never fucked anyone so tight before, has never had to go so slow that he can count every inch. He keeps still once she's finally seated, because her breaths are quick and panicky and he figures some time to adjust can't hurt.

"God," she says, whispers. Her eyes are squeezed shut.

"Too much for you?" Rude says, desperately hoping it's not.

She shakes her head sharply. "Just... big," she says, like it doesn't go without saying. She takes a deep breath, then lets it out slow. "You can move when you want to."

Still, Rude holds on for another minute, stroking her sides, letting her get used to it. His hips want to move, but he can play the gentleman this time.

Not for long, though, because Elena starts squirming again, trying to move, and that's more than his control can take. His hands tighten on her hips and he thrusts upward, short and quick.

Elena's groan is almost as nice as the way her tits bounce, so he does it again, and then again. When she starts to move _with_ him it's pure fucking heaven, so Rude picks up the pace, figuring if she were going to protest she'd have done it an hour ago.

The sounds she makes are an unexpected gift. Rude has had her pegged as the quiet type, and he's more than happy to be proved wrong by every little hitching moan and every short, sharp cry. When he slips a hand down to stroke her clit she almost _wails_, and the noise has him clutching at her, kissing down her throat and across her collarbone, hot and desperate.

When she comes it's unmistakable-- she tightens up so much, closing around him like a hand. Rude snarls and can't stop himself from biting at her throat, and Elena practically _sings_ with it, her voice reaching up and up until she hits the final note and then shudders back down again.

She's almost loose in his arms now, and Rude only has to thrust up once, twice, three times, and then he's coming in a gasping, white-out rush.

Elena sags against him as he comes down from it, shaking a little like she's exhausted. Rude strokes her back, idly, tracing mindless patterns across her damp skin.

After a minute she lifts up, hissing as he slides out of her. She manages to crawl upward on wobbly legs, and then it looks like she's casting about, trying to locate her clothes.

"Going somewhere?" Rude murmurs.

She's still flushed, so it's hard to tell if she blushes or not. "I was-- I thought..."

"What, that I'd kick you out right after?"

Elena frowns, like it'll cover up her embarrassment. "We aren't dating," she says.

"Doesn't mean I won't let you use my shower." Rude heaves himself up, stretching to make his spine pop. Elena is watching him, almost wary now, like she doesn't quite believe him, so he grabs her by the wrist and starts tugging her along. "C'mon, no point being shy now."

Elena's a lot more pliant, a lot more _comfy_, after the shower. She lets Rude drag her to the bed, unprotesting, and just hums contentedly as her back hits the sheets. When Rude leans over and kisses her she meets him halfway.

When he slithers down between her legs, though, she takes in a sharp breath. "No, Rude, I can't again. I _can't_." But Rude is a persuasive bastard, and he argues with lips and tongue until she can, and _does_.

Afterward she's damn close to languid, sprawling all over his bed like a stretched-out cat in a warm patch of sunshine. Give her a little practice and she might even give Reno's contented face a run for the money.

She lets out a sigh as Rude climbs back up and collapses next to her, and doesn't say a thing when he scoots in close, one hand on her hip. Rude determinedly doesn't think of this as _cuddling_, but he likes to stay close afterward, likes the warmth and the smell of freshly-washed hair. He lets his fingers play, idly, and the skin where hip joins waist is so unbelievably soft. _This was a good idea,_ he thinks.

Elena wriggles around a little, trying to get comfortable, and then with a long shuddering sigh she commits herself to sleep.

It's dark, and since no one can see, Rude smiles.


End file.
